


When the Lights Go Out

by orphan_account



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-19
Updated: 2013-11-19
Packaged: 2018-01-02 01:50:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1051128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>French stage director Margaret d'Anjou casts aplay based in Medieval England, about a King and Queen who should never have married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Lights Go Out

“Non, non, non!” Margaret let out an exasperated sigh as she stepped up onto the stage taking the young girls arms in hers. “Elizabeth, let go of your guard, let him walk toward you, you are lovers!” She signalled for the young man to walk toward her, he did, she did a hand swish “Edward, I am your Queen, Elizabeth watch girl. You let him approach, he touches your cheek and you relax into his embrace.” She stepped away and turned back to Elizabeth slapping the girls cheek lightly “You are not a door! Be not so tense and rigid!” She stepped from the stage looking up from her chair. “Lets try again.”

She watched as once again, Elizabeth tried but failed to fall into the embrace. “Non!” She muttered a curse in French and stood up. “That I fear is enough for today! Elizabeth, practise tonight! You are yo relax you love him! Je temme! Edward, lift the girl properly! You are masculine and strong, she will not break I assure you.” She looked back, glanced to Richard Neville, the young man's tutor, of course, she had to confess, despite her reluctance to believe, the boy was very good, stylish, but too gentle handed. No good when it seemed he would likely have to force Elizabeth into relaxing in their brief embrace. She looked back. “That is all for today, practise!” She stood and gathered her things leaving through the back entrance. 

Elizabeth regrouped with her mother, a stunning woman who always wore the most fashionable clothes, the biggest names, always emphasised her French and Italian accents whenever they were inside this place. As though she thought such helped with status in the show biz. “Mother, am I too rigid?”

“A little.” Her eyes glanced off toward the boy with which her daughter had to work. Edward Plantagenet, the boy was now standing next to Richard Neville, a vulgar and obnoxious man by all accounts, too proud and arrogant to notice the true flaws of this act. “I do not blame your though cherie, he is hard to warm to.” 

The females giggled, stopping as Edward approached, pausing waiting for them to finish speaking. “Elizabeth?”

“Yes?” She spun around, a serious look on her face, one which read she was none all too happy for working with someone barely past their childhood, not when she was so much more mature, when she had worked so damn hard to get here and he, he'd simply mentioned his name and taken good positions and anything he wanted to be his birth right. 

“I was thinking, should we stick around and practise?” 

“Sure, if you think it will get us anywhere.” She almost laughed and turned back to her mother informing her she should go ahead, she herself would catch a taxi later. Edward shouted similar to the Neville tutor he had and their supervisors left. Elizabeth took in a breath as Edward approached, for some moments they practised, a good half an hour simply to perfect that scene. One which they could not, much to their frustration. 

“Maybe we should just stop.” He smiled to her. “Its too late for us to hope to get anywhere, surely. Come now, I'll drive you home. Saves you splashing out on a taxi at night.” 

She shrugged, what harm could it do?

They'd driven through London, a city surprisingly loud even for midnight in a capital city, something which did not fail to amaze her even now. He'd driven with confidence, they had spoken, she'd even enjoyed this arrogant brats company somewhat, almost felt the upset as their journey came to an end. He'd parked down the road from her house, worried her father would see him, worried that arguments which had since past between Edward's father and her own would stir between them. Would not have been forgotten. She lingered for a few moments, sat still and neither said anything. “Well I should-”

“Wait.” He climbed out of the car walking around opening her door. Who said chivalry was dead? She laughed as he offered her a hand to help her out, she accepted, stepped out and gasped. No sooner had her feet touched the floor than he'd taken a firm grip on her, had stepped close.

“Edward.” Her voice was a shocked whisper, she tried to struggle, could not. Something was stopping her. 

“Elizabeth, please, hear me out, come back to mine, we'll be alone... I..” He looked to the floor for a moment, a boyish feature about him. She could not tell if this were an act, if he was simply playing the shy and timid young man to grasp her attention. “I want you.”

 

“I do not understand what that means, I don't want to. Good night.” She pushed him hard, walked, only to have him catch her, pull her under a tree, up against the bark and then he kissed her, softly, firmer, his hand on her stomach, exploring as he ran circles over her blouse, his fingers dangerously close to the buttons which sealed the blouse over her breasts. “Edward, no, no. Edward get off me!” She pushed him harder. “Are you deaf or an idiot?”

“I...”

“I don't care. Don't think Margaret will not hear about this!”

“Eliz-”

“No. Don't come near me, I thank you for the lift and say good night. Go home and enjoy whatever life there holds for you. I shall see you at the theatre on Monday.” 

“Please-”

“Good night, Edward.”


End file.
